Priceless

California Desert Bighorn Sheep | Priceless

I always thought if I could live long enough, I would draw a Desert sheep tag in California. In 2024, it happened. I drew a tag in the Ord Mountains in Southern California. Now what? It was not an option, I was going to do it self-guided with the help of family and friends. Being an outfitter in California for Tule elk and with four of my best friends being guides and outfitters, I felt quite secure that we would find sheep and have a great time doing it.

Five of us showed up several days ahead of the opener, set up camp, and readied for the hunt. We glassed a few hours and located several rams. There was a very nice one with both lamb tips, and he was really flared out. The next morning, we started early and glassed all day, finding 24 rams, most being legal. What a day of glassing sheep! The best one was still the wide-flared ram. He was in the same place as the day before.

The next day, the day before opener, we were out early for more glassing. We were seeing a lot of sheep again, and there was one ram midway up the mountain with two other rams that caught our attention. He was heavy, broomed on both sides, and in an area that was accessible. We kept track of him all day, and we found a lot of other rams as well. Things were looking good.

That evening, the rest of the crew showed up. Now there were 11 of us in camp, and tomorrow was opening day. Out early the next morning, we set up to glass from several locations. Early, we found the wide ram on top where he had been the last couple days. We glassed for several more hours with no sign of the heavy broomed ram. This wide ram was very good, so we worked on a plan to get to the top and make a play on him. The country was steep and rocky, and this ram was on top. The biggest challenge would be to get this 63-year-old hunter with two full knee replacements up there. In the meantime, one of the guys found rams halfway up the mountain. There were three rams, and one of them was the heavy ram. Watching him, it was easy to tell he was an old warrior of the mountain. He carried his mass all the way out to the tips, and his horns came down below his jaw. We could see the chips in his horn from past battles on the mountain. Estimating his score in the mid 160s, we decided he would be a ram worthy of trying for.

We watched the rams for several hours until they bedded. Our plan would be to go up one draw until we were above the rams. Our destination was a red, rocky outcropping that would put us around 300 yards from the bedded rams.

Several hours later, we were at our destination. We crawled through the rocks to locate the bedded rams. What we saw instead was three rams running uphill through the rocks. We had been busted. Scrambling to find a shooting position, I found the rams. Even with the other two being very nice rams, it was easy to identify the big, heavy guy. They were now 350 yards away, and I was in panic mode with adrenaline pumping through my body. I was shooting a .300 Weatherby. The two guys that came with me on the stalk, Tim and Jim, were giving me ranges and the location of our ram. My first shot hit him high, knocking a puff of hair off his back, but in no way lethal. The second shot was a clean miss. They disappeared over a small ridge, and when they came out, the guys gave me the range – 450yards. I had one last chance as they were going out of sight. After the shot, the rams were gone, but we all heard the unmistakable sound of the bullet hitting home. Ten minutes later, we could see the other two rams going through a saddle on top. Jim and I stayed back, and Tim went up to where we last saw the ram. Finding blood and following it for 100 yards, he found my ram. Now I had an hour plus hike just to get to the ram.

Upon walking up on him, there was no disappointment. He was everything we thought he was and more. We called down to the rest of the guys and let them know of our success and to see if they were coming up to take pictures and help pack. One by one, they came up the mountain. My biggest surprise was to see my son in-law, Brian, with my 5-year-old grandson, Bryce, in tow. I told him, “Thank you for getting Bryce up here,” He responded, “It's my job.”

It was dark when we finally had the ram ready to pack off the mountain. With dark rocks and a lot of cactus, we all made it off without any issues. We knew where Bryce was as he talked the entire time down the mountain. The next day, we took the ram in to be inspected, plugged, and scored. The old guy scored 168” and was 12 years old. This was definitely a hunt I won't forget, and being able to share and enjoy the beauty of God's creation with family and friends was priceless.